Drabbles
by Phoenix-Fire Power
Summary: Little drabbles that I write that are too short to be on their own. Range from different genres. Some will be historical. On hiatus.
1. Blame

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**This 'story' will be made of drabbles that are too short to be on their own. Some of them are going to be historical while others will be about other things. Those with historical drabbles will also have a miniature lesson based on what the drabble was about.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

"I don't understand." Germany whispered his fist shaking. "I just don't understand."

He looked up and glared at Austria who stood a few feet away with his arms crossed and not meeting his eyes.

"I don't understand why." Germany said through grinded teeth.

He walked the few feet distancing himself and Austria and grabbed Austria by his collar.

"Why the hell was I blamed if it's your fault?" Germany yelled.

"It was your beloved archduke that was shot and killed." he yelled. "It was you and Hungary that declared the war! I was merely your ally. I was brought along with you!"

Germany fell to his knees, the tears he had been fighting finally overflowing. His arm fell limply from Austria's collar to his side.

"Why the hell did I have to take the blame if you were the one who started it all?" Germany asked.

Austria remained silent.

**After World War I had ended France, England, America, and Germany had to sign a treaty that was named the Treaty of Versailles which held quite a few requirements from Germany. One being that he take complete and total blame for the war and its effects. World War I actually started after the assassination of an archduke from the Austro-Hungarian Empire Archduke Franz Ferdinand which then prompted the Austro-Hungarians to declare war. Germany was indeed and ally of them.**

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If I have something wrong I apologize. My history knowledge of this comes from my own history class from last year so my memory isn't entirely complete on that subject. If I got something wrong in the explanation simply tell me and I will change it.

**There will be more to come, not only historical drabbles.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	2. Burden

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Gilbert sighed as he turned over the gun in his hands a few times.

He was only fifteen years old and he already knew about nearly every kind of gun there was and anything and everything he needed to know about them. How to take care of them. Which bullets they needed.

How to shoot and kill with them.

His younger brother Ludwig was the same. Since the moment they were able to understand even simple things their father taught them. How to survive. How to fight. Everything they needed to know.

Gilbert doesn't know why however for as long as he could remember he, his father, and his brother had been on the run. From people worse than cops and more illegal.

Sometimes he caught his father looking at Gilbert and Ludwig and a guilty look would appear in his eyes for a moment. Gilbert knew his father hated himself for bringing not only one child, Gilbert, but a second one into a world where they must be constantly on the move and always afraid.

They've been around the world trying to escape and live another day. They've had training in China and Japan of martial arts. They had training with guns in Switzerland. They learned the rules of the mafia in Italy. They learned how to survive nearly all kinds of horrible weather in Russia.

And now merely hours ago the three of them had been broken forever.

From three into two.

Those people had been closer than usual. His father had used whatever time he had to hide himself and Ludwig before they had arrived.

They asked for the Gilbert and Ludwig.

Their father said that they might as well kill him, he would never reveal where he had hidden them.

The people obliged.

Gilbert had covered Ludwig's mouth to make sure they didn't hear a single sound from him and bit his lips hard together as they watched the bullets run through their father's body as he fell to the floor.

It was only hours after the men had left that Gilbert allowed himself and Ludwig to come out of the hiding place to where their father's body laid.

Until that moment he still held onto the childish belief that nothing would kill his father and that he was alright.

Ludwig had started to cry, he was only nine years old, and then he began to scream.

Gilbert will never forget a few things from that night. The first being the sight of his father being killed while they were a few feet away and they were unable to do anything.

The second was his brothers screams filled with anguish.

The third is when Ludwig looked at him with hate filled eyes and swore revenge on those men.

And now they were in the same place that they had been last night, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. They would move on in the morning but for now they could rest.

Almost.

Gilbert refused to allow himself to rest for the moment no matter how much his body needed it.

He glanced at where Ludwig slept merely centimeters from his side. The child had cried himself to sleep silently. Gilbert was proud that he hadn't made a single sound even though both their hearts had been breaking.

Gilbert stroked the gun with his fingers, curving them at each bend and turn before merely setting it in his palm and looking at it.

He had used guns since the moment he was able to hold one properly.

However this time the gun weighted more heavily with its purpose.

Never before had it felt so heavy_ and wrong oh so wrong _in his hands.

**An AU that I've been meaning to play with.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed this one.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	3. Flawed

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

That was the way he felt as he gazed in the mirror.

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

His hands were covered in calluses brought on by training with the swords he insists on training with for no reason. His hands are hard and rough and unpleasant to bring upon another persons skin.

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

His body is covered in scars. Horrible horrible scars from battles and wars of long ago. And still to come. Who would ever wish to touch such a scarred body?

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

His voice doesn't bring the authority needed to convince others. Others overlook him and forget him.

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

His eyes aren't bright enough to even think of matching his brothers. His brother. Oh so perfect America. He was nothing like Canada. He wasn't…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

No America was perfect. He had the confidence. He had the voice to have people listen to him. He had the looks that everyone could not break away from. The entire world was ready to listen and pay attention. That's because he wasn't…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

It didn't matter if America didn't look in mirrors anymore. Or that his eyes would immediately avert from anything that would shine his reflection back at him as if bitten. He didn't need those moments to know that he wasn't…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

Like Canada was.

The people always pay attention to the center and not the shadow. Why should they even bother and try? Those moments where he is mistaken for America he actually relishes and loves. For those moments he isn't…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

Sometimes it was so easy to slip into Americas persona. To pretend that he was the hero and he was great. That he had confidence _that he lacked _his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear _no one can hear a slight whisper of the wind _that it was his looks that everyone couldn't avert from _why bother with the pale imitation when you can have the one filled with life? _And for that moment Canada wasn't so…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

Matthew stared at the mirror. The mirror was smirking at him and whispering.

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

"_Um…who are you again?"_

"_Oy America there's something I want to talk to you about."_

"_Guys is there someone else in the room?"_

"_Who are we missing again?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

"_America?"_

Matthew punched the mirror as hard as he was able to. He didn't have Alfreds strength. Something else he lacked that the elder _the magnificent _had.

"Matthew!"

A voice. He turns before he does however a warm and gentle hand envelops his own. The one that broke the mirror and now has shards of glass in it and is bleeding heavily onto the floor.

Ekaterina.

Ukraine.

She fusses over his hand, takes the shards out carefully, and bandages it gently. Her kind, kind, oh so kind eyes look up at him and she asks

"What's wrong Matthew?"

He breaks down. Her arms are immediately around him and she is comforting him.

Here. In her arms. Canada doesn't feel…

Flawed, flawed, flawed. So terribly flawed.

Here. He feels…

Perfect.

**I mean no offense to Canada what so ever. However all those times of being mistaken for America and being overlooked it will do something to him mentally.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	4. Between The Lines

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Spain opened the door carefully balancing the groceries in his hand.

"Lovi~ I'm back." he sang out.

South Italy peered over his shoulder from his place on the couch. "Bout time you got here bastard I've been waiting."

_Where were you? I was starting to get worried._

"Sorry Lovi. The line at the shop was long and then Greece and I got into a really interesting conversation." Spain said apologetically.

"Meh whatever."

"_Alright then. Don't make me worry like that though."_

Spain placed the bags on the table in the kitchen and called to Romano. "What do you want to eat?"

"Don't know."

"_You know I love whatever you cook."_

"Hmm. Then I think I'll make your favorite pasta. I got some more ingredients for the sauce."

"Don't care."

"_Thanks."_

"I saw Feliciano at the market as well! He was with Germany."

"Don't talk about that potato-bastard and my brother!"

"_I don't want to hear about them."_

"Sorry. Although he said to tell you hello for him."

"…"

"_Please don't talk about my brother. I know you want him instead of me. You always did."_

"I'm glad you're here though. I missed being with you."

"Didn't miss you."

"_I missed you too. Veneziano is always at Germanys now."_

"Later Prussia, France, and I are going to a bar. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah I can take care of myself bastard."

"_Have fun, you guys haven't hanged out for a while."_

Romano looked over at Spain once more. "Don't know why you hang out with France though, fucking pervert."

"_France better not try anything or he'll have me to deal with."_

"Don't worry Lovi. He knows not to."

"Whatever."

"_Good."_

Romano turned back to the television. Spain looked up from the onions he was chopping at Romano's turned back and slowly walked to him.

"_Will you stay? Will you really stay?"_

"_Don't leave like everyone else always did to me."_

"_I don't want to lose you."_

"_Please."_

"Lovi?"

"What?"

Spain quickly hugged him from behind.

"Love you Lovi~~!"

"Wh-what the hell you bastard? Get away from me!" Romano said pushing him away.

"_I love you too."_

**Spain is very good with reading between the lines and seeing what Romano isn't really saying.**


	5. Love

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**This one is in the point of view of Lovino. Along with one-sided FemGermanyxItaly and One-sided RomanoxFemGermany.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Sometimes I wonder Veneziano, do you really love Germany? Or is those emotions simply fake ones? When you look at her do you see Germany as she is or do you see your beloved Holy Roman Empire brought back to life?

Actually I know. You told me. You believe she is the Holy Roman Empire, she just merely forget and you're waiting for her to remember.

Veneziano. She loves you. She honestly truly loves you. I know I say nothing but bad things to her. I know I degrade her with my words and I have never say anything nice to her but I can honestly admit that I know she loves you.

And you're leading her on.

Do you even care for her? Do you even remotely like her or is all because of that Holy Roman Empire?

She has done so much for you. Every time you were kidnapped or taken or hurt she would always rescue you, bandage your wounds, and then gain revenge for your name.

She takes care of you down to the littlest thing. She never complains. Because she loves you.

Some people think she's heartless and doesn't care about anyone.

Well even though I don't say anything I know that's not true. She is actually very caring and she protects the people she cares about.

I don't know why. I don't know why she puts up with you so much.

Oh wait I already said it. It's because she loves you.

I can see the happiness in her eyes as well as the hope. I see Prussia glaring at you with a promise of pain in his eyes. He knows the truth. He knows why you are there beside her.

And he knows that you will end up hurting her.

And you want to knowing something fratello? I won't help you when he does, and I know that day will come. I won't help you at all.

Because you deserve it. You lead her on. You made her believe that you loved her and really and truly her.

I don't know if she is the Holy Roman Empire or not. All I know about the end of that Empire was what I heard from Spain or what I read in the history books.

Although putting together the date that Prussia found her and the date that the Holy Roman Empire fell. Well…

Have to say, it's a bit too much of a coincidence.

What to know something else fratello?

I love her.

Yeah. I know it sounds unbelievable. I know that everything I do contradicts it but it's the truth.

I love her.

I'm afraid though. I'm afraid of telling her. I'm afraid of her reaction.

And I am deadly afraid of rejection.

So I unfortunately stay silent.

I watch as you continue to play her until that day you completely break her.

I'll be there. I will be there next to her. And I will hope and pray that she will look at me and give me a chance.

Spain says I should just tell her.

I don't know.

Remember fratello when I said that you would have Prussia on you when you break her heart? It won't be just him. It will be Spain as well. France maybe too, he is close friends with both Spain and Prussia.

They will be after you.

I'll be by her side. I'll be the one comforting her. I'll be the one holding her.

So for now, have fun fratello. You'll fall and then you'll pay for your empty flirting.

And remember fratello.

I never forget. I never forgive.

Especially when you hurt the one that I love.

Have fun.

**Dark side of Romano. I like it.**

**I like it very much.**

**It's almost a crime that this is under a thousand words. I really want this to be alone but my own rule. Under one thousand means it's a drabble and must go in the drabble story.**

**Tragic.**

**Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	6. Scars

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**I finally wrote another GerIta story. I really missed this pairing. Wonder why I forgot about it.**

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Italy simply stared at Germany in the rapidly fading moonlight. It was a worm summer night, or rather morning since the sun was starting to rise, so he wasn't wearing a shirt to bed, just boxers.

Italy reached out and gently slid his fingers over Germany's skin. He lightly traced Germany's lips.

He was sleeping on his stomach and he looked peaceful. A stressful week has gone by thankfully and with it a weekend where Germany can relax alongside Italy.

Their covers were on his lower back showing the bare skin.

And all the scars.

Germany's body was covered in scars he realized. On the front of him and the back. Even the sides.

How many wars has he been in that he is nearly completely covered in scars?

* * *

He didn't ask until night came. When they had went back to bed.

"Germany?" he asked quietly.

"Yes?"

Italy reached out and gently brushed his hand against Germany's skin.

"Can you tell me from where did you get these scars?"

Germany started slightly in surprise. "Do…do they bother you?"

Italy quickly shook his head. "No, no! I'm just curious."

He then pulled off Germany's shirt. His eyes caught his scar on his shoulder.

"Like this one." he said touching it lightly. "Where did you get this one?"

Germany glanced at it. "That's from a training actually. I didn't block properly and the sword went through."

"By who?"

"Prussia."

When he saw Italy's surprised look Germany quickly said "It was an accident. He couldn't stop apologizing for weeks after it."

Italy then looked at a different one. This one was a thin line across his collarbone. "This one?"

"American Revolutionary War."

Italy blinked in surprise. "You were there?"

"Partly. I met Alfred there for the first time."

A jagged one on his side. "This one?"

"Franco-Prussian War. France."

"He did it to you?"

"Mm hmm. Happily I think too, from the way he had grinned at me."

There was another on the right side.

"That one?"

"It's from World War one."

One on his hip.

"This one?"

"My so-called Revolution in 1918."

One a few inches away from his heart.

"This one?"

"World War two."

One directly over his heart.

"This one?"

"It's not from a war. The day the Berlin Wall was put up."

Finally the one he had noticed first of and the most. The one in the middle of his back.

He lightly traced it noting how Germany closed his eyes and shivered slightly.

"What about this one?"

"…I don't know."

Italy looked at him. "What?"

"I don't know." he repeated.

Italy looked at the scar again carefully. Then he crossed to Germany's front and looked carefully at his stomach.

There was another scar in the center of his stomach in perfect alignment with the one on his back.

He looked again on the one on his back.

It would've been a simple wound, entering from the stomach and even going out from the back, but whoever had done it wanted to ensure more pain. They had jerked it to the side.

"Whoever did this one." Italy said quietly. "Wanted you to be in a lot of pain."

Germany shrugged. "It must've worked then, I don't even remember how I got it."

"At all?"

"At all."

Surprising both himself and Germany Italy leaned in and gently kissed the scar. He then sat up and hugged Germany tightly.

"What's this for?" Germany asked bemused.

"Just…for no real reason." Italy said quietly.

**Unfortunately since there is less then a thousand words here I consider this a drabble and I am putting it where the drabbles go.**

**I hope you guys understood the real meaning of that last scar. If not, tell me and I'll explain.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


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